


Roslin v Thrace

by AsterHowl



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterHowl/pseuds/AsterHowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura loves a good fight. Kara invites her into the ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roslin v Thrace

**Author's Note:**

> So this remains one of my favourite fic I wrote for BSG. It's actually undergone a light touch of editing here. No this isn't crackfic and how dare you sir.

Sherman wasn’t a man who considered himself in tune with what happened around him. He wasn’t about to let something as sentimental as that become one of his defining characteristics. He saw things, he heard things, just like anyone could, and he didn’t waste time pondering the deeper meanings behind them. He didn’t have to search that deep to understand them anyway.

It was the tendency people had to overanalyze things that made them look too hard. A lingering look was supposed to mean something so people pried and probed looking for it and by then, they had dug too deep. Emotions, feelings, passions didn’t reside that far into a person. They were plain as day, smack in the middle of the face.

The President was a good example. She was certainly someone who considered herself skilled at the art of deception. Yet in the quick dip of her eyes Sherman understood at once. This had occurred the moment Captain Thrace graced the room, sporting proudly a number of bruises and a single cut to her left brow.

“Oh. Sorry, Doc, Madame President. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Kara’s grin, too, innocent enough, may as well have been accompanied by a fifty piece orchestra, a full choreographed set, and lyrics to the affect of your eyes, your lips, those legs, your hair.

“Not at all, Captain. This was just a social call.” Playing her part, Roslin stood suitably refined, and anyone who walked into the room at that moment would see their President; graceful, dignified, respectable. Sherman saw fingers twisting in her hands behind her back. He rolled his eyes.

“She thinks I have the time,” he grunted, and took some swabs and a tape from a nearby shelf. Kara approached at his encouragement and he proceeded to clean her up.  
“For the President, we all have the time.” Kara cast sly eyes at the woman, behavior not uncharacteristic for Starbuck, but still made Laura wary of their company.

He liked that about the Captain. She was the only person brazen enough to regard Laura’s stature as an invitation to taunt, provoke and generally frak with. He only hoped Laura could give as good as she received.

Kara hissed as Sherman finished cleaning the wound.  
“Appears you had a good fight. I trust you were victorious,” Laura said, voice in tones even Sherman could feel scuttling down his neck.  
“You missed a good one, tonight. Racetrack and I went almost ten rounds.” Her head turned and the edge of her mouth curled. More than words, this painted a scene that had already begun to drive Laura wild.

He saw it in the way her brow came down just a bit, the way her eyes narrowed, and, when she thought he wasn’t looking or at least thought he wouldn’t notice, the way her lips tightened so she could wet them with her tongue inside her mouth.

“Girl’s tiny, but she packs a mean right hook.” Kara dipped her head to showcase her newly patched cut.  
“Sorry I missed it.” Laura sounded more than sorry. There were strains to her voice that Sherman would have called devastated.  
“I did hear you like a good fight,” Kara played. Sherman could see the inspiration spark in her eyes. “You ever been on the mat?”

Sherman wouldn’t have cared but for the rare occasion that Laura had failed to see the obvious direction the Captain would go with this. She laughed innocently.  
“Now that was nearly forty odd years ago.” Affected by fond memories, Laura missed again the glint in Kara’s eyes.  
“Bet you’ve still got the moves.”

Laura’s eyes flashed. Sherman turned from Kara saying,  
“You’re done. Now get outa here. You can take the President with you.”  
“Hmm. Not nearly as fun when I have permission.” Kara clapped her knuckles together and then stepped aside. “After you.”

Without turning around Sherman knew Laura was blushing. He knew because of the silence she let stretch that second too long and because she ended it by clearing her throat. She barely turned her head to face him as she said her goodbye and was hasting out the door before he could even scoff. Kara remained, and smirked smugly when he finally acknowledged her.

Anyone could read that look. And she was going to get her way.

  
Kara probably suggested she come and visit him in Life Station. Again. It would seem no one took his job seriously until they were on the edge of life or screaming in pain.  
“The people appreciate the time you take to visit.” He could pretend that was the reason Laura was here. “They like to know their actions aren’t forgotten by your type the moment they are snatched from space and rushed to the operating table.”

She wouldn’t mind the less than respectful reference to herself and the government. It was just his language.  
“I like to visit when I can.”  
There were only two patients and neither was that critical, but Laura didn’t seem to notice that her own façade wasn’t holding up. Sherman was amused but not surprised. She was uncomfortable around him after her last visit.

It was bad enough she expected him to be able to see her whenever she liked but he wasn’t about to let her get away with forcing him to endure such awkwardness. Sherman kept his voice low, in kindness to her.  
“So has she frakked you yet?”  
She choked. On what, Sherman had no idea. He only acted quickly to help her recover. Only after she was breathing evenly did he notice she had a cup of water, and when he stood back he could see most of that water was now down the front of her suit.

He passed her some cloth to clean up and she took it without looking at him. He waited until her movements slowed and she was twisting it anxiously in her hands.  
“Come on. Get up.”  
She followed the order because she couldn’t work her voice to argue.

The other day, Sherman discovered that Kara Thrace approached her secret affairs much like she did dangerous missions. Her plans were cunning, daring, required an element of flair, and today involved Sherman’s authority to get President Roslin away from her security detail.

“What’s going on, Sherman?” She could only ask on her third attempt to speak.  
He stopped outside the hatch, then opened it for her. Ushering her inside, and marveling at the patience he had been able to show for what was likely to reveal itself as one of Kara’s sex games, Sherman closed the door behind them.

The room was empty but Kara was displayed in light in the middle of the ring, stripped to her tanks, sporting shorts and bare feet. Laura breathed in deeply, as if she wanted to consume the sight of her. The discomfort she had felt with Sherman no longer mattered.

Kara padded to the ropes and leaned on the corner.  
“What happened to her?” She could see the drying water stains on the dark suit Shermanet even in the dim light.  
Sherman chuckled. “Pre fight nerves.”  
Laura burned at the implication and Kara just grinned in approval.

“Better get changed, Madame President. Gear’s in the lockers.” Kara tossed her head sideways. Laura looked down the end of the room to the entrance to the lockers. It took some more encouragement from Kara but eventually, and biting her lips in anticipation, Laura eagerly did as she was told.

“Thanks for this, Doc,” Kara said as he came to the edge of the mat.  
“You just be careful.”  
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on her.”  
Sherman just sneered. “The warning was for you. She grew up in this culture. She might surprise you.”

The soldier’s eyes glittered in suspense. “Thanks for the tip.”  
Sherman grunted and went to take a seat in the corner, far enough away to give the women their privacy, and near enough to provide cover if it was needed.

When Laura emerged from the lockers, even Sherman felt his heart tumble. In place of the sharp, stiff lines of her suit were the curving, embracing military tanks and fatigue quarter shorts. She slinked across the floor, under Kara’s ravishing gaze and stood waiting at the ring. She was biting her lip as she looked up at Kara. The girl barked.  
“Get up here.”

Laura crawled under the ropes and Kara helped her up and hugged her close. Laura looked around for Sherman, and he settled in to something he was going to try his darnedest to read. She turned back to Kara in apprehension. Kara just stroked her hair.  
“Relax. We can trust him. Doctor, patient confidentiality, remember?”

She wasn’t reassured, but Kara kissed her anyway and eventually she melted with desire. Tape and gloves were at Kara’s feet and these she reached for, preparing to wrap her lover’s hands. Laura offered a hand with a giggle and Kara slowly applied the tape, enjoying the clear delight and giddy anticipation in Laura’s eyes.

She kept bursting with giggles and Kara beamed.  
“What?” the younger woman asked, even if it didn’t matter what the answer was.  
Laura was almost trembling with exhilaration. For endearing moments she couldn’t even get her lips to form words. As Kara finished wrapping one hand, and held it lovingly, Laura held her gaze with eyes shimmering for the depth of her gratitude.  
“I feel so young.”

Kara kissed her fingertips. “You’re beautiful.”  
As Kara began to wrap her other hand, Laura flexed her fingers to test the tape against her knuckles and hummed in approval. Kara helped her to put on the pair of black gloves, strapping them tight and giving them a double punch that made the woman laugh.

Already wrapped in tape, Kara pulled on the red gloves and smacked them together, adopting a stance. Laura chuckled and did the same and it made Kara growl with lust. Laura giggled again, testing her weight on her feet and hefted her gloves.

“Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?” Kara asked.  
Such a question had Sherman intrigued, despite his efforts to convince himself that the book he was reading was far more stimulating. Kara spotted him steal a glance and he looked away again, quickly, grunting as though he didn’t really find Laura’s current physical appeal that interesting after all.

Kara was bouncing. “Alright. Show me whatcha got, Roslin. Let’s go.”  
Laura stalked slowly. Kara jabbed at her gloves and Laura ducked back. Kara grinned wildly and repeated the attack. Laura held her gloves together, deflecting it easily. Kara wouldn’t be aware of which provoke Laura responded to, but she barely managed to dodge the swipe to her face.

“Hoh!” She laughed, impressed, and Laura smirked. She ducked aside and smacked her fist hard into Kara’s guts. The girl gasped in mid chuckle, wheezing as she staggered back clutching her stomach. She looked up at Laura who sneered smugly. Kara had never wanted her more.

“Oh.” She straightened with a grimace, cracked her neck, clapped her gloves and tossed her shoulders. “It’s on.”  
The Old Man called it a dance. Sherman could even hear the music. He had long discarded his book, taking advantage of the fact the two women were so powerfully enthralled by each other and might even have forgotten he was there.

He watched them stalk in circles, jabbing, weaving. Kara may have been holding back, letting Laura’s fists connect with her flesh because, in the emotional and physical high, she craved the sensations the woman was offering. But that didn’t stop her giving Laura a taste of the full experience.

He sat up with concern when Kara delivered a blow to her ribs that made her grunt a touch too loud to be for show. She doubled over, but into Kara who caught her gently and held her until she recovered. She didn’t ask if she was okay. Perhaps she knew that Laura wouldn’t have appreciated the weakness it would imply.

Instead, she let the woman catch her breath and then waited for her to find her feet. Bouncing again, Kara knocked her gloves provokingly, and Laura launched at her with renewed fire.

They fought a while longer, and Sherman watched, seeing more clearly the tenderness to their dance. It was invariable that Laura would tire first. Kara had backed her into the corner where she draped her arms around the ropes, panting, heaving.

Kara slipped her glove under her chin to lift her face, and Laura smiled at her between breaths. Her skin glistened all over with a thick sheen of sweat and perspiration trickled down the edge of her face, beading on her upper lip.

The desire in Kara’s eyes blazed and when she suddenly grabbed Laura’s hair in both gloves, the woman gasped and jumped in alarm. Kara twisted her gloves, drawing her hair tightly, making Laura arch back more and more until tones of anxiety passed in her frantic breath.

Sweat trickled down the length of her neck, utterly exposed. Her chest heaved in the tanks that displayed her form so boldly, so provocatively. Her legs, bent at the knees, were tensed with the strain to brace her spine against the post and her arms trembled on the ropes.

Kara’s body towered possessively over her, short pale hair cloaking her face, plunging her in shadow and making her eyes dark. Laura’s heart raced, her lungs and throat burned and it was getting harder and harder to keep her legs from giving out.

Laura couldn’t be sure where it happened. Somewhere in the middle of a breath. The dangerous look in Kara’s eyes was gone and she was looking down at her with tender fascination. Kara cupped her wrists under Laura’s jaw and gently took her lips with hers.

Laura whined, her body brimming, crackling with sensations it had not felt in decades. Without control of her breath she had to break the kiss to pant. Kara smiled and kissed her nose instead, and her brow, tasting her skin. She hugged her.  
“Come on. Put your arms around me.”  
Laura was surprised at the effort it took to do so, but eventually she managed it and Kara supported her down the post to sit on the mat.

As Kara sat in front of her, Laura was very aware she was still gasping and had to laugh.  
“Don’t feel…young…anymore.”  
Kara put her gloves on Laura’s bent knees. “But you look even more beautiful.”

The woman closed her eyes and chuckled contentedly. Kara threw off her gloves and reached to stroke her lover’s face, supporting her with touch until she caught her breath. Laura’s arms hung limp at her sides. As Kara set to work removing the woman’s gloves and tape, she glanced over at Sherman.

He was reading. Turning a page. She shook her head and wondered if he thought he was getting away with it. And then, suddenly, she was on her back.

Laura’s hair tumbled in velvet waves, eyes bright and devious kneeling over her, hands pinning her shoulders. Kara beamed. She started the countdown. Laura purred as she leaned down. Her lips closed over Kara’s mouth before she could finish.

Sherman turned another page. Not that he read a single word.


End file.
